Play Safe
by Athena's Avatar
Summary: Jareth has a gift for Sarah. Will she use it wisely? Warnings: language, violence, and a dash of smut.


As predicted, no chapter for Love and Loyalty this week, though I'm starting to feel rested enough to return to it. In it's place, I offer my response to the Harem prompt in which Sarah wakes to discover Jareth sitting on the edge of her bed, tapping his boot with his riding crop. Warnings for violence, language, and smut. Oh, and before I forget: me no own Labyrinth or its far too distracting characters.

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Play Safe

Jareth sat on the edge of her bed, tapping his booted heel with his riding crop, caressing her face with his eyes as she slept. In sleep she regained an innocence belied by the dark kohl lining her restless lids, the traces of blood red on her lips. While she slept, he could entertain brief fantasies of those lids opening to reveal soft green depths, lost and frightened in the face of his majesty. Her limbs were tossed haphazardly around her, each ending in perfectly manicured, black-polished nails, while pale flesh winked from ragged holes in the oversized black t-shirt she wore to bed. Huffing impatiently in her sleep, she rolled away from him, Curiosity bloomed and, never one to resist his own impulses, he slid the end of the riding crop under the hem of her shirt, flipping up the thin cloth, appreciating the unobscured view of her soft, rounded rear thus exposed. So, little Sarah didn't wear underwear to bed. How... revealing. He trailed the riding crop along the line of her hip, watching her face closely for signs of her return to consciousness. There: the briefest of warnings, a tension along the jaw, and then she had spun to face him, her hand gripping the riding crop and her lip curled up in a snarl, eyes spitting acid.

"Oh, dear, I'm terribly sorry," he apologized with amusement. "Did I wake you?"

"You know you did, Pervert King. What do you want?"

He tsked in mock disapproval. "Really, Sarah. There's no need to be so confrontational. After all, I've brought you a gift."

She snorted derisively, flinging her end of the riding crop away and crossing her arms as she shifted back to lean against the headboard.

"Like I haven't heard that one before. In case you hadn't noticed, Jareth," and she made his name sound like something she'd found on the bottom of her shoe, "I'm not into fairy tales and pretty dresses anymore."

Oh, how she thrilled him, intentionally prodding a dangerous opponent. Her snide words drew a sharp-toothed grin, and his blood thrummed at her answering sneer.

"Oh, but I had noticed, my dear." He rose and trailed the riding crop gently along the array of spiked jewellery that she had hung on rough nails pounded randomly in the wall. Bits of metal chimed, glinting in the moonlight. He half lifted a set of handcuffs off of one of the makeshift hooks, raising an amused eyebrow at her. Her steely gaze and challenging jut of chin provoked a deep-throated chuckle and he let the cuffs fall back as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. He could see the moment her awareness took him in fully, eyes skimming over his black armour and ragged cloak, skipping lightly over the riding crop resting in his leather clad hands.

"But this time, I do not offer you your dreams. Just a gift, freely given." With that, he reversed the riding crop, offering her the handle. He saw the flicker of desire in her eyes, quickly masked.

"It's not exactly a horse and buggy era, Goblin King. What the fuck am I supposed to do with a riding crop?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"The same thing I image you'd do with a set of handcuffs, my dear. And what was it one of my goblins said you purchased the other day? A leash? Didn't your precious puppy die last year?"

"Fuck you, asshole."

Tempted as he was to take her up on the unintended offer, he simply smirked at her, continuing to hold the riding crop out to her. She licked her lips a little, her eyes betraying want as she stared at the handle. The sneer returned as she flicked her gaze back to his.

"What's the catch."

"No catch, my dear. Simply a gift." Her eyes narrowed in obvious suspicion.

"Why?" He sighed, flipping the crop back to hold an end in each hand, flexing it slightly as he spoke.

"I have watched you, Sarah. I know the games you play. What happens when you push one of them too far? What happens when he," he smirked, "or she strikes back, hmm? I cannot keep an eye on you all the time, precious thing." She _growled_, a sound that stirred his blood, and her hands curled into claws. He could feel her fury radiate across the room.

"I can take care of myself, you spying bastard!"

"Oh have no doubt that you can, precious, but wouldn't it be nice to have a slight... advantage?"

"A riding crop? What kind of advantage is that supposed to give me?"

"Oh, but this is no ordinary riding crop, my dear." He stifled a laugh at the disgusted look she gave him. "In your hands, and in yours only, mind, it will paralyze whomever you strike, should you wish it to. You may release your...victim by striking again, should you desire, or simply leave them for me or my goblins to deal with at our convenience." Oh, he had her now. She was half way off the bed, her eyes glued to the gentle arc of the crop as he tapped it against his palm. Her voice when she spoke was breathless with longing.

"Really?"

"Really. A gift, freely given. I simply wish to ensure your safety." She wasn't really listening to him now, her eyes greedily devouring the braided leather. This time, when he offered her the handle, she took it, drawing the rough leather lovingly along her palm.

"So I just want the person to stop, or freeze, or whatever when I hit them and they're paralyzed."

"Precisely. Use it wisely, Sarah."

Her eyes, cruel green globes, glinted evilly, meeting his for a full second before she struck, the crop whistling with the force of the blow before it cracked against his thigh. Her lips curved in a sensual smile when no response was forthcoming, and she stepped close to his still form. Tracing a hand lightly down his temple, across his cheek, and along his jaw, she slapped him soundly with an open palm. Her smile broadened as she stroked the reddening hand print, and then she stretched up on her toes to join her mouth with his, her lips and tongue teasing and tasting. With a final nip, she leaned back, smirking. She turned away from him, admiring the riding crop in the moonlight.

"I think I like this gift of yours, Goblin King. I think I like it very much."

The hand wrapped around her throat surprised her, but she did not cry out when his other arm pinned her painfully against him.

"You did not truly think I would be so stupid as to give you the power to control me, did you, precious?" Her hitching breath told him of the terror in her eyes, and he ground his pelvis into her perfect, rounded rear, ensuring that she felt the fullness of his arousal. He could feel her tremble in fear of the retaliation he would take for her actions. He brushed his lips along the shell of her ear, down the length of her neck, pausing to let his breath warm the spot over her jugular before biting down with bruising force. At her whimper, he pulled back, gently bathing the spot with his tongue.

"Play safely, love," he whispered in her ear and then faded away, leaving her collapsed on the floor in a flood of fear and passion, the riding crop still clutched in her hand.


End file.
